


Shy Men

by wargoddess



Series: Prompts [7]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things are awkward, now, and Steve thinks at first that it's because Alenko's shy. Alenko really, really isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shy Men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cypheroftyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cypheroftyr/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Afterburners](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169125) by [wargoddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wargoddess/pseuds/wargoddess). 



> This is a follow-on -- not exactly a sequel -- to "Afterburners". You don't have to read that one to get this one, tho'. This one is also in response to a prompt: for Cortez/mShep and kinky vacation shenanigans. I'm not much into writing mShep (don't like messing with people's headcanons), but Cortez/Alenko? That I can do.

     People say that the first time with a new lover is the greatest. Steve's always thought that was crap; usually the first time is nothing but nerves and fumbling and awkward laughter, and hopefully not coming too quick. That was what it had been like with Robert -- a slow buildup over time from awkward to amazing sex. Which was why the first time with Alenko had been such a shock. Shock that Alenko had approached him at all when Steve had been convinced that the major just wasn't that interested; shock that it hadn't been Shepard; shock that after the first kiss Alenko had asked for more, so softly that Steve could barely hear him over the music; and lastly shock when they'd gotten to the hotel room on the Silversun Strip and had spent the night barely talking, constantly touching, writhing and shuddering together in ways that began to approach the poetic before it was all done. It had been, Steve grudgingly admits to himself, the best first time he's ever had.

     _Now_ it's awkward, though, because that was during shore leave, and back on the ship neither of them has a private bunk. And because they don't know each other well. Sometimes at night, Steve climbs into his bunk in the crew quarters and sees Alenko doing the same, across the room. He looks at Alenko, hoping for their gazes to entangle, hoping to convey somehow that _I wish I was climbing into that bunk with you_ , but Alenko doesn't meet his eyes. The first few times this happened, Steve went into full-fledged self-blame mode, wondering what he'd done to offend the man, wondering whether the sex hadn't really been as good as he'd thought, wondering why a Spectre was interested in a lowly shuttle pilot anyway, wondering whether Steve has been wrong about Alenko being the kind of guy who cares about rank.

     It's Vega who clears the matter up. "Alenko's _shy_ , Esteban," he explains, while in the middle of doing pull-ups. (Amazingly, Vega's capable of speaking in a low voice while he does this. That's more impressive than the pull-ups themselves.) "Like, before he went up to dance with you that night, he'd been in the bar below drinking this nasty shit. That was 90-proof, 75-percent liquid, courage."

     It's a revelation. It puts so much into perspective. Steve's been thinking of Alenko as formal, standoffish; no, he's _awkward_ , and competent and mature enough to hide that awkwardness behind a veneer of being amazing. He _is_ amazing. It's just that there's a squishier layer beneath the veneer than Steve would've ever guessed.

     So he stops reading anything into it when Alenko won't meet his eyes in the crew quarters. Of course that's too bold. Too many eyes watching. But.

     He does contrive to find Alenko in small, private moments, like when he visits the Obs Lounge once and watches the stars beside him. Alenko does look over at him then, blinking and then smiling slightly, tentatively, as if he wants to be pleased by Steve's presence and is afraid to be. Steve smiles back and touches his hand -- not tangling their fingers together because he senses instinctively that that's too much, but just brushing the backs of his knuckles against Alenko's. Plausible deniability in case someone comes into the lounge behind them, even though no one but Alenko and now Steve ever do. Alenko _blushes_ at the touch, it's the cutest goddamn thing, and steps a little closer. Thus is a shy man wooed.

     And this is how a shy man is seduced, on a ship full of people in the middle of a war. Steve happens into the shower room one day when Alenko's already there, and no one else is. Lucky. It's mid-shift; Steve's here because he's finished all his work and nobody really gives a shit if he stays on the hangar deck anyway. Alenko's here because he's a Spectre and doesn't officially have a role on the ship, though Steve's noticed him chipping in here and there. It means he doesn't have a shift and can shower whenever he damn well pleases. Alenko glances over as Steve comes in and blinks, but continues showering as if it's meaningless. Steve starts up a different shower and plays that game, too... for awhile. Then he turns to face Alenko while he washes, looking dead at him instead of politely looking away. Alenko tries not to look for a minute, like maybe he thinks it's rude even though Steve's already come in his mouth twice and had Alenko's cock inside him once, but finally he gives up and turns to face Steve. Now it's the hottest damn shower Steve's ever taken, not the water but the view, because Alenko's moving the bar of soap over himself slowly and Steve's remembering what that skin tasted like and Alenko's obviously remembering some stuff himself because his cock is gorgeous and upright, and Steve's is too, and if anyone comes in it's going to be awkward as hell but for once Alenko doesn't seem to think about that because his hand moves down and Steve's hand moves down too and do you call it a circle jerk when you're ten feet apart under different shower heads but both of you are staring at each other, biting your lips, making soft sounds that the shower almost swallows, _thinking_ about swallowing and then coming, coming, _coming_ all over your own hand, watching him do the same and wishing you could touch him, but you can't because if someone came in right now both of you could turn away and play it off under the shower but not if you're glued together and buried in each other's mouths, and --

     -- shit.

     So that's how it goes, for days and for weeks, shy and subtle moments, while Shepard tries ever more desperately to figure out some way to save the galaxy. It's this which finally gives Steve his second chance. Shepard goes to the Citadel one day to touch base with the Council. Everyone's worn out, including Shepard, though he's so driven that he barely notices. Steve finally sees Alenko pull him aside and say, pointedly, "Orders regarding shore leave?"

     He doesn't say "sir", because he actually outranks Shepard. But he's made it a question, made it a show of deference, because Shepard's their leader no matter what. And because this is what Alenko's like when he's being aggressive -- he attacks at an oblique angle, his strike brief and devastatingly efficient, rather than wasting energy on a head-on confrontation. Steve takes notes, and admires the hell out of it -- more so when he sees how Shepard blinks bleary eyes and looks around and sees how tired the crew is, and belatedly gets what Alenko is saying.

     "Yeah," he says finally, heavily. "Twenty-four hours, alternating shifts."

     Steve figures Shepard will spend all of that sleeping. Good; he needs it. But Steve's belly has clenched, and he watches Alenko, and when Alenko lifts his eyes away from Shepard they land for only the most fleeting of instants on Steve. They flit away, so fast, off to the side and down, bashfully, but Steve has gotten the message. This is how a shy man flirts. So Steve turns away and calls up his omni-tool and immediately books a room at the same hotel on the Strip that they used before, then pings an invite via private-message to Alenko. He's nearby when Alenko gets the ping, but Alenko doesn't look at him again. Alenko just looks at his omni-tool for a long, lingering moment. Then he licks his lips before heading off to do whatever else he's got to get done while Steve finishes out his shift.

     Steve _feels_ that lip-licking, though, like a stroke against his own lips.

     Finally the shift is over and Steve catches a rapid transport to the hotel. He's thinking he's beaten Alenko there and will take the time for a shower, but the instant he walks in the door Alenko's _on_ him, damn fast-assed Spectres, and that's the end of thought. Alenko's in his mouth and Alenko's hands are easing up his shirt and Alenko's body is pressing him back against the hotel door, they barely got it closed before this began. And while Steve is pulling off his shirt so that he can feel Alenko's hands on his bare skin, Alenko's dropping to his knees and yanking Steve's pants open and -- _fuck_.

     "You're not really shy," he blurts, while Alenko noisily slurps on his cock.

     It was a stupid thing to say, mostly because Alenko pauses, then slowly slides off of the tip. He looks bemused. His hand, wrapped around the base of Steve's cock, automatically begins a gentle, torturous massage. "What?"

     "I mean, I was just thinking," Steve says, rapidly trying to will blood back into his real head from his little head. If only Alenko's hand didn't feel so good. If only Steve didn't want his mouth back, so much. "It isn't _shyness_. If you were really shy I would h-have to -- " He waves a hand. Alenko flexes his hand. _Fuck_ , it's so good, and Steve should just stop talking. "I don't know. _Convince_ you. But I don't." He just has to make sure they're in private. Once the door's closed, Alenko's on him like white on rice. That's not shyness, that's something else.

     Alenko leans against Steve's hip, nuzzling his bare belly. It feels almost as good as the handjob. "I'm not shy," he agrees.

     This... actually helps clear Steve's head. The big one. "So what is it, then?"

     Alenko gives a slow shrug. From this angle, his eyelashes are so long. "I just don't like being... surprised. Caught out. I want to control what people see. When and how they see it."

     Steve chews this over, while Alenko starts licking him like a lollipop. Steve starts to lose himself in that and forget the issue at hand, but... no. He's just too damned intrigued.

     "So you mean," he says, as Alenko's worked his way back up to deep-throating him, one hand playing with Steve's balls and teasing behind them, "if you could control it, you -- hnh -- wouldn't mind people seeing? Knowing that we were... Oh, fuck."

     That last bit isn't an exclamation of pleasure. It's an epiphany. _Oh, fuck._ Steve hasn't been trying to figure out Alenko's apparent shyness, all this time. He's been bothered by the way Alenko seems to be hiding Steve. As if he's ashamed.

     Alenko pauses again, and this time it's painful, in part because Steve shudders in the absence of pleasure and in part because he's afraid he's said too much, demanded too much of this oh-so-private man. But when Alenko gets to his feet, there's something in his gaze. Something hot and raw and pleased.

     "Outside that window," he says, softly. "Across the street. There's a nightclub."

     Steve blinks. Yeah, he's seen it, when the room's blinds are up. It's a more low-key joint than Purgatory, more of a wine bar, playing the asari equivalent of drum-and-bass. But its windows are directly across from the hotel room's windows, and it would take only one patron glancing outside and getting an eyeful before he and Alenko became the night's entertainment. Fortunately the blinds are down. "Yeah?"

     Alenko licks his lips. Steve feels this. Or maybe that's Alenko's hand, still wrapped around Steve's cock, tugging now. Startled, Steve follows the tacit order of that hand, and follows Alenko across the room. To the window. Where Alenko reaches for the button that will raise the automated blinds.

     "Whoa." Steve reaches for his hand before he realizes he's doing so. He pauses before touching Alenko's hand. Alenko pauses in reaching for the button. "I didn't mean..." Did he?

     "Didn't you?" Alenko smiles. It's not shy at all. It's gentle and warm and tender, and yet somehow also knowing.

     Steve swallows. Alenko lets his cock go and leans against him, sliding a hand down his chest and nuzzling Steve's ear. "It's your call. I don't care who sees. I just care _how_ they see."

     He smells like want. Steve can't help wrapping one arm around him and pulling him close and biting at his neck. He wants to fuck Alenko this time, wants to feel Alenko shudder around Steve's cock, wants to make him come on the window-glass. Alenko's cock bumps against Steve's hip and Steve presses back, rubbing shamelessly against him, loving the way Alenko utters a low soft groan. But Alenko's hand is still up near the blinds control, and when Steve stops frotting him and looks up, he sees the question lingering in the other man's face.

     It's an impulse. It's a dare. It's... no, it's neither of those things. Steve can't lie to himself anymore than he can to Alenko. He wants what he wants. And what he wants... is for the world to see how beautiful Alenko is. How lucky Steve is.

     He reaches up again, takes Alenko's hand. Alenko's fingers tangle in his own. Steve reaches, or Alenko reaches, or they both reach for the button. The blinds slide up.

     Steve stops caring about the sound of zooming cars beyond the window, or the rhythmic flicker of neon lights from across the street. He wraps himself around Alenko and toys with Alenko's nipple and bites him again, harder. Alenko breathes, "Please fuck me," into Steve's chest. His fingers tug at Steve's hips. "Please."

     "Yeah." Steve swallows and pulls back, focusing enough to call up his omni-tool and activate the sex-shield script. A thin layer of energy sheathes the fingers of one hand and his cock, making the latter slippery when Alenko grabs it and strokes him quickly before turning to press his hands against the window. Steve leans on his back and works slow fingers into him, listening to Alenko's heavy, relaxed breathing. "You good?"

     "Yeah." Alenko's ready, soft and open, pushing back a little against his fingers. Over his shoulder, Steve sees a bead of moisture at the top of his cock. There's a lovely burr in his voice when he adds, "Hell yeah."

     "You want a shield too?"

     "No, I wanna come on the glass." _So_ not shy.

     Steve laughs and sucks at the skin on the back of his neck. "I wanna _make_ you come on the glass." He starts to ease in, slow but steady, careful, careful. Like he's making love to a precious thing. "I just want you, Kaidan."

     Alenko turns his head; their eyes meet. Yeah. Steve just wants him.

     So he pushes in, and sets up a nice rhythm, and they're well into it, Alenko moaning and letting his head fall back as his hands flex on the glass and his hips push back to meet Steve, when Steve finally remembers that Alenko's trying to prove something here. He musters enough wit to look up and -- yeah, that's about right. Across the street and in the nightclub, there are a good ten or twenty people crowded near the glass, eyes gleaming with amusement, teeth that are square or round or sharp grinning at them. And -- oh. _Alenko's looking back at them_ , Steve realizes, keeping his eyes on theirs, letting them see his body rocking beneath Steve's thrusts and licking his lips as if their gazes are another caress. He _likes_ it, strangers' eyes on him. And --

     _Oh, shit_ , Steve thinks, as his balls tighten and he has to press his face against the back of Alenko's shoulder to pull himself back from the brink. Oh, shit. Steve likes their gazes on Alenko, too.

     So he... There's an instant in which Steve balks. A shy flash of his own. Robert always said he was risk-averse. But it fades fast, because Alenko is so goddamned amazing. And then he...

     ...slides his hands up, slow and deliberate, over Alenko's belly so everyone can see his fingers play over the soft ridges of muscle. And up to graze the undersides of Alenko's pectorals, and up to dance his fingers around one nipple, and up to slide those same fingers into Alenko's mouth. Alenko moans again, his body tightening all over, sucking on Steve's fingers, and Steve fucks harder, faster, because he can't not do so. Across the street a pretty asari is watching the slide of Steve's hands. Steve can tell. She licks her lips when Steve tugs on Alenko's nipple, and he feels it, her tongue echoing his desire. There's another human couple over there, a young man in infiltrator armor embossed with the N3 mark and a handsome older guy in business civvies. The older guy can't take his eyes off them. The younger guy can, and he turns to the older guy and leans against him to whisper in his ear. His hand ghosts over the man's jacket, which hangs low enough to cover his crotch, but Steve can see him cop a feel. It's infiltrator-subtle, but Steve shudders and puts a hand on Alenko's cock to begin stroking him, and Alenko gasps out Steve's name.

     There's a gleam of light from one side of the gathering. Someone's got a small drone-camera hovering nearby. Filming them. Steve puts a hand on Alenko's belly to let him know. Alenko sees it and shifts slightly, leaning forward so the camera can get a nice shot of Steve gliding in and out of his ass, if it zooms in enough.

     It's like a mirror, reflecting back and forth and back and forth and amplifying with every bounce. Their gazes. Steve's hands. Their delight. Alenko's pleasure. And who's he kidding? Steve's pleasure, too.

     So when Steve shuts his eyes, he can _feel_ them there, lips licking and breath quickening and eyes hungry, encouraging, sympathetic tension building. Do they wish they could hear Alenko, the low soft cries that are fogging up the glass? Do they want to taste Alenko's skin, which Steve is currently worrying between his teeth? Do they wish they were Alenko, coming apart in front of the world and finally shouting, jerking all over, as he splatters the window? Do they wish they were Steve, groaning softly as his hips stutter and his body tightens and he slams a hand against the glass too, next to Alenko's, tightening into a fist with each spasm?

     Do they like being used this way, these strangers? Do they understand that _they_ are the show, not the two people slumped and sweaty against a hotel-room window?

     Doesn't matter. This is the second time, and it's better than the first. This is how a shy man -- ha! -- lets the world know he's dating again. This is how two soldiers tell a war to fuck off, because they're still alive and not wasting a single moment of being that way.

#

     It's on the gossip channels before they wake up. Alenko turns on the extranet terminal, and they see the footage on one of the top news networks, though it's been plastered with a warning for visible biped genitalia. The money shot, Cortez's cock measuring the distance between them, gets pixelated out. The reporter's voice sounds scandalized, but then they cut to an EYEWITNESS shot. The pretty asari. "I never thought to see humans truly embrace eternity," she says into the mic, her voice full of dreamy, naked admiration. "They're a much more advanced species than anyone ever told me." The reporter asks something leading, something about Shepard's crew needing to be role models, something meant to shame them, and the asari scowls. "No," she snaps, "and grow up. It was _beautiful_."

     Steve agrees. In token of which he's busy fucking Alenko again while the broadcast airs. Just on the bed this time, and the blinds are closed, but the footage _was_ excellent, especially that close-up of Alenko's face as he squeezed his eyes shut and mouthed _Oh my God_ , just the sight of that made Steve hard as armor polymer, and Alenko is there and hungry and still beautiful. They've got eighteen hours of shore leave left.

     By the time they get up the next morning (another shower, this one not just watching) and have breakfast (blinds open again, Steve laid out amid continental pastries and glasses of juice, the flicker of camera-flashes like honey on his skin while Alenko licks it off), it's all over Citadel space, and the narrative has changed. SECOND HUMAN SPECTRE TELLS REAPERS TO FUCK OFF, LITERALLY, reads one of the headlines, and they're not pixelating the shots anymore. A hanar reporter explains human sexuality for the more confused members of the audience, complete with diagrams and slow-motion shots of the breakfast fuck, drawing circles around and labeling the parts of Steve's anatomy that Alenko progressively suckles. (It's hilarious when the hanar attempts to understand the mystery of human male nipples.) As evening comes and a blushing, grinning waiter brings them room service, doing a shitty job of hiding the camera tucked under his jacket, Steve starts to think maybe things are getting out of control. (Alenko pauses long enough to tap his omni-tool and tip the waiter, and then he lifts Steve's hips a little higher and shifts to one side so the waiter's camera can get a good shot of his cock going deep, and his fingers toying with a nipple, and Steve shuddering helplessly in response.) That's the whole point, after all, isn't it? That's what Alenko wants -- for people to see what he wants them to see, know what he wants them to know. Control. But the media is not a controllable thing.

     The hotel concierge greets them at the desk as they check out, and shows them the celebrities' exit: a narrow tunnel that leads straight to a rapid transit station, bypassing the crowd of reporters and spectators milling around outside. The concierge is completely professional as she bids them farewell, but then she blurts, "Thank you."

     Steve looks at Alenko. Alenko's got that knowing smile on his lips again, a calm amused look in his eyes; whatever's happening, it's still something that fits within his plan. Still under control. But he ducks his gaze away from Steve, and this time Steve intuits why: because he doesn't want to be caught out. He doesn't want this stranger to see the weight and tenderness of his gaze. Strangers can see all the sex they want, but anything more? That's for them alone. Steve stares back at him, completely caught, knowing now what Alenko's "shyness" means and humbled, astounded, by it.

     "For what?" Steve asks the woman, to distract himself.

     She ducks her eyes. "I just..." She shrugs. "I needed to see that. I think a lot of people did, no matter how the tabloids try to spin it. So thank you for... sharing. So." She shrugs again, awkward, then she slides professionalism over her own awkwardness like a veneer. "Thank you for your stay at the Hotel Hedonis, and please come again." Then she's gone.

     There are a few fans waiting near the docks, but not many; C-SEC doesn't tolerate crowds near military vessels. They cheer and call out as Steve and Alenko head for the _Normandy's_ docking tube. Steve feels his cheeks heat, but Alenko just strides past them. Then they're in the docking tube, waiting for permission to board. It's the last alone time they're going to have until... well, maybe until the war ends, though Steve hopes not. If so, though, well, there's plenty of footage circulating on the extranet to tide them over.

     "Tell me you didn't plan all this," Steve says.

     "I didn't," Alenko says. He's grinning. "Good second date, though, right?"

     "Amazing." Steve's grinning back, in spite of himself. "Not sure how we're going to top it."

     "I have some ideas."

     "Oh, really?"

     "Yeah."

     Then the door opens, and half the crew is there to whistle and cheer at them, and Steve's left with nothing but intrigue. This is how a shy man drives a lover wild, after all, and this is what Steve gets for thinking that first time was as good as it got.

But he lets the backs of his fingers brush Alenko's, and this time Alenko takes his hand, firmly. It's Steve's turn to blush as they head inside to let everyone see.


End file.
